‘And what is it that will be done here, Lann?’

‘Dark deeds,’ he whispered.

It was hot under the furs. Waking with a dry mouth, Glaeverssun opened his eyes on the dimly lit room, momentarily confused as to where he was. However, it was not just thirst that had woken him. He could have sworn he’d heard somebody whispering.

He lay perfectly still, senses tuned in to his surroundings. He could call the guards – should call them – but he didn’t want to appear foolish to them. So he lay unmoving for a few moments more.

Nothing.

Eventually, convincing himself his nocturnal imaginings were a result of the wine and the goat’s cheese he’d eaten at dinner, he turned over and settled back down into his pillow again. It was as he closed his eyes that he heard the small, barely audible whisper again.

He turned to the queen, wondering if she had spoken in her sleep, but her face was calm and peaceful. How the woman slept so soundly he would never understand.

‘Who’s there?’ he called out in a hushed voice. Then, throwing back the furs, he climbed down from the bed, the cold of the floor sending an icy chill through him.

And just then, that whisper again. Glaeverssun stood rock-still, straining his ears to try and work out where the sound was coming from, because it seemed as if it were from everywhere at once. A whisper that was more in his head than—

Kurum-na murt.

Glaeverssun gave a little shout and spun around wildly. Childhood stories of phantoms and ghouls were reawakened in him as his highly charged imagination began to run away from him. His heart beat wildly in his chest as he hurried across the room towards a lighted candle on a small stand not far away. But as his hand reached towards it, the flame sputtered and died, as though extinguished by an invisible figure.

‘Wh-who’s there?’ Glaeverssun stammered, hating the scared sound of his voice. ‘You don’t frighten me, whoever you are.’

Another whisper, this time to his left.

He moved in the direction of the sound, and bumped into the table in the middle of the room. The sword. With shaking hands he grabbed its hilt and pulled the Dreadblade free. Despite his panic he was struck by how light the weapon felt in his hand. A shiver of excitement ran through him. He was invincible with this weapon. Invincible! Standing taller, he dared whatever malevolent being was here to show itself.

Karum-na murt.

Behind him!